


Intercrural

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Nipple Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-14 00:48:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2171583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, Arthur/Merlin, sex between the thighs. Yeah. Explicit, obviously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intercrural

"Arthur." The prince stops short at the entrance to his rooms and he _stares_ , transfixed. Merlin is bent over his desk, and Merlin is __naked__ but for the scarf around his throat.

Arthur can see him shake just a tad from the cool of the draughty castle room, but his posture is perfect, and he is _beautiful_ : Merlin is art with the curve of his shoulders down to the line of his spine, down to the plump roundness of his arse.

The prince closes the door behind him lest someone come – a servant, Gaius, or possibly even his _father_ , God forbid – and he steps forwards.

“What are you _doing_?” He hisses, and his mouth goes dry as he realizes that Merlin's cock is bobbing between his legs. It's not that they've not messed before, because they have. Merlin's climbed into bed with Arthur once, twice, Hell, four or five times, and they've rubbed themselves together or played over each other with their mouths and hands.

But like this? Does Merlin want Arthur to _take_ him?

“I want you. Now. I want to try something _new._ ”

“N-new?” Arthur asks, and he wonders how bad it is that he occasionally lets his manservant boss him around. Particularly when said manservant usually bosses him into sitting down so any serving can be done to Arthur's cock.

“Take off your clothes.” Arthur hesitates, because trusting his _dollophead_ of a servant doesn't always go well, but Merlin turns his head and offers Arthur a small, confident grin.

Oh, _damn_ it all.

Arthur throws his tunic and trousers quickly aside, and once he's naked he moves quickly forward – his hands brush over the smaller man's skinny hips, though they've filled out a little with time in the castle, and up further, over Merlin's sides. His hands brush over the skin until he finds the other's nipples, hard with the cold of the room; he's forced to position himself with his half-hard prick against the other's arse but when Merlin _convulses_ at the pinches to the nubs it's definitely worth the indignity.

“Want you to fuck me.”

“Fuck- but _sodomy_ -” Arthur knows some men do it. Some women do it, even, but it's still _sodomy,_ and every fibre of his being screams that sodomy is wrong on a level nothing else he does with Merlin is, and that it's debasing. And he can't debase _Merlin_ – the man's his servant, yes, but he's not worthless.

“Didn't say sodomize me.” Merlin says, and he rubs his arse against Arthur's crotch: the Pendragon feels wetness.

“Wha-”

“Line yourself up, between my thighs. Come on, Arthur, trust me: it'll be good.” And Arthur _does_ trust Merlin. He reluctantly draws his fingers away from the other's nipples and puts his hand to his cock, lifting it slightly.

Merlin's thighs are pressed as tightly together as they can be, and Arthur stares at the pale white flesh. He swallows, and then lines himself up.

The movement of his hips is slow, careful, and that's a bit silly – he's not going to _hurt_ Merlin just by rubbing between his thighs – but he keeps pressing and oh, _oh,_ _**oh.**_

Merlin lets out a groan as Arthur's cock presses all the way forwards, and the head of it rubs against Merlin's balls and the base of the other man.

“That's good.” Arthur manages to choke out, and he slowly drops his body, draping himself over Merlin to feel how warm the other man is, and to let his hands travel to the other's nipples again.

“Told you. Always right, me.” Arthur slaps his thigh, and the noise Merlin lets out, long and low and _desperate_ , sends a shock through him. “ _Move_ , Arthur, you _clotpole_ , come on!” It's an effort. It's very _warm_ between Merlin's legs, and the other man has slicked his inner thighs with some oil, but Arthur pulls back slowly all the same, and then thrusts forwards again.

They moan as one.

Arthur begins to move properly, rolling his hips in regular movements, and Merlin _writhes_ under him, pressing his thighs all the tighter as if to hold Arthur close to him. Arthur pinches and pulls at the other's nipples as he _fucks_ between his servant's thighs, and both of them are gasping. Merlin comes first, his orgasm staining the desk beneath them, but when Merlin _writhes_ Arthur comes too.

“Oh, _God_ , how-” Arthur sighs the words against the other's shoulder, resting his forehead against the other's skin. Merlin reaches up, weakly, and pulls the scarf from around his neck, wiping in a sleepy fashion at the mess they'd made.

“My _arms_ hurt. None of the books said that position would make your _arms_ hurt.” He complains, and Arthur snorts, pulls him towards the bed and throws the covers over them both. It's much warmer like that, and Merlin isn't putting any more weight on his _poor_ , tired arms, after all.

“Did you read about this? Merlin, did you _study_?”

“Yes!” Merlin says, tone defensive, and Arthur starts laughing. “Of course I did!”

“You absolute pillock.”

“Rub my arms.” Merlin demands, and Arthur does, gently, amusedly. “I'm sleeping here.”

“Presemptuous of you, to think you'll sleep in the _prince's_ -”

“Sire, do please _shut up._ ” Arthur snorts, but he does, wrapping his arms around Merlin and enjoying his _warmth_.

“As you wish, Merlin. As you wish.” There's a pause for a few minutes, and then Arthur says, “Uh, Merlin?”

“Let me go to _sleep._ ” Merlin all but whines, and Arthur taps his arse placatingly.

“What's it called?”

“What's _**what**_ called?” Merlin's never sounded so irritated with him in his life. Is it bad that Arthur delights a little in his utter displeasure?

“What we just did.”

“Sex?”

“Yes, _sex –_ for God's sake, you prat – but what _kind_? Like, you said the other thing was called frottage...? And since you've done _all_ this research-”

“It's called intercrural sex, Arthur. As in between the thighs. Now _shut. Up.”_ Arthur does, closing his eyes and laying back to sleep. Inter _crural_ sex.

What a wonder.


End file.
